


Budapest Is The Beginning

by Ciasquare



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciasquare/pseuds/Ciasquare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avengers in the Pacific Rim World, mainly focusing on Clint and Natasha's views. When Clint loses his team in a Kaiju battle and Natasha loses her lover as a casualty of said battle, both bump into each other at a bar in Budapest. They discover they are drift compatible when they get into a bar fight. She agrees to join SHEILD in their mission to destroy the Kaiju and the two of them replace the previous Jaeger team that died in a previous battle. SHEILD discovers that there is a mastermind behind the Kaiju - Loki - and when Clint is captured by Loki, can Natasha help the rest of the Jaeger teams save the world and get her partner back?</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Bruce, in an attempt to find out what the Kaiju are planning, injects himself with a serum made from Kaiju blood. The experiment goes wrong, but can he still help save the world? Or more importantly, will he stop running long enough to help?</p>
<p>Thor is trying to get his brother back to Asgard and finds out he is on Earth. He soon finds out that Loki has a plan to destroy Earth by utilizing the wild bligesnipe from Kvorstarr. He flies down to stop him, but can he save Earth along with his brother?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction to Before the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> May go on hiatus, or will be extremely slow-going. Warning given!

Clint is 15 when the Kaiju first invaded. 

He doesn’t know how he survives it, but he remembers watching the circus tent crumple, and then seeing it being trodden underfoot by the giants who are invading their world. He remembers running to the trailer park to wake Marty and Ada, the strong man and the bearded lady, the two people at the circus who actually cared for him. He made it in time to watch their trailer get tossed into a tree. 

He hopes they were still sleeping.

* * *

Natasha is 13 when she is freed by the monsters that destroy the world. 

She remembers everything. She was the best of the Red Room because she thought of none but herself and never let anyone in, so she was the only one who escaped. Everyone else died defending their base. She takes a Jeep she finds relatively undamaged in the wreckage and drives it to the nearest airbase where she acts her age, crying and whimpering and spinning stories about her dead mother and father. The pilot agrees to fly her out, no charge. 

She never looks back.

* * *

There’s a little ragtag team of people he bumps into when he’s wandering around homeless. Barbara, Paul and him; they are all teenagers and had seen and lost a lot more than they should have. Filled with bravado, hope and just that little bit of crazy, they swear to fight the Kaiju the next time one comes into town, which one eventually does. He helps, with his circus bow and his acrobatic skills, praying thanks to Pam and Tam, the twin acrobats at the circus who insisted he train with them. Their little team didn’t manage to stop the juggernaut, but they do slow it down somewhat, allowing hundreds to get to safety. SHIELD hears of their efforts and all of them get offered places in the agency. After all they are partway successful and that is saying a lot considering that they are mere teenagers. They make it into the very few ground teams that are allowed to fight alongside the Jaegars. 

A few days before Clint turns 20, they fly down to Sarajevo to fight a Class III, the very first of its kind. 

Sometimes he wonders if things would turn out different if he had persuaded the other two to stay back for his birthday, but it’s too late now.

He turns 20, they died.

* * *

Freedom makes her weak, because there’s nothing to be careful of and she makes a big mistake. She grows attached to the pilot who first ferried her out of her prison. But Alexandrei is addictive. He has always been a free soul and his spirit is like nothing she has ever seen. She knows that he knows that she’s more than what she told him, but he never asks and she never tells. They go from one place to another, flying around the world. And even while despair and destruction flood the world, she begins to hope like she’s never done. 

Two days before her 18th birthday, he asks her where she wants to go. She smiles and tells him, anywhere. She’s tired of planning, she tells him. He laughs and flies them to Sarajevo. 

On hindsight she realizes that it was too close to the sea to be safe. But she can’t do anything about that now. 

She turns 18, he dies.

* * *

They cross paths for the first time in Budapest.


	2. Barton

“We lost a lot on this one.” Fury tells him when he gets back on the makeshift base. “We’re moving everyone back.”

The base in Sarajevo is mostly just tents in an area relatively far away from the sea. They had the minimal basics, a med team, a ground and Jaeger team – known as the Quinjet team – and the tech support. The Jaeger team had been destroyed and much of the ground team, but they had managed to take the Kaiju down with them as well. The Jaeger itself had been salvaged and was being taken back to the real base is back in Budapest where majority of the Jaegers are. _‘And where we should have been.’_ He thinks, but he doesn’t say that out loud.

“We lost too much on this one.” He replies almost immediately, thinking of Bobbi and Paul, tone a controlled sort of angry, knuckles white around his bow, “The Quinjet team were one of the best teams on the planet, sir. They lost their lives today and I’m the only survivor. I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job sir, but we should have gotten more intel on this fucker before you sent us in.”

Fury frowned and Clint wondered for a fleeting moment what he looked like before the eye patch. “They knew what they were getting into when they signed up for this thankless job. They knew they were going to die and they wanted to do it fighting the monsters that destroyed the world. We did what we could. Don’t demean their choices, Barton.” 

“With all due respect, fuck you sir.” 

“You’re being reassigned, Barton.” Fury goes on, ignoring Barton’s restrained outburst, “You get the IronJaeger team back in Budapest. Get your stuff and get going.” 

“Yes sir.” He says, tone clipped and the screen goes blank. 

He leaves the main tent to go to his own and pack up what little he has, bundling it all into a duffel bag. He doesn’t have much, half the duffel is filled with his own weaponry and ammunition which he is certain that SHIELD doesn’t know about, and if they did, they didn’t care to stop him so it doesn’t matter.

He stops by the armory, to pick up his bow and a newly refilled quiver. He knows that even a short trip down to Budapest could go wrong and he’s not prepared to lose any more people. Hank, the agent manning the armory tent, gives him a grim smile as he enters the tent, looking up from where he’s been oiling and sharpening the knives to pack them away. He gestures to the flap in the partition behind which the less conventional weapons were stored. Clint nods and goes through the flap to the other room in the tent, sharp eyes quickly picking out his bow cases amongst all the other boxes stored on top of each other. Smiling, he pulls out one of the more worn cases, one of his favorites. 

As he does, he hears heavy footsteps behind him, stopping by the flap. No one else would be stopping by here, so those steps could only belong to Hank. Clint instantly goes on the alert, using his few seconds advantage to analyze what he knows of Hank. Hank is a man of few words and firmly believes in leaving well alone the business of other people. Following Clint to the back and idly watching him test out the bows is very uncharacteristic of him, especially when he has something else he is supposed to be doing. As the flap swishes open, he shakes out the bow, taking a millisecond to admire the curves – it may have been years but the bow always takes his breath away – and picks up an arrow, but draws dry. This way he can nock faster than Hank can throw a knife. 

“Sorry about Bobbi and Paul.” Hank’s deep voice carries across to him and he nocks the arrow, but keeps his aim carefully to the side as if he is just testing out the bow. 

“Wanted to give you their weapons.” Hank says, moving to the other side of the tent and pulling out a black case.

Clint raises his eyebrows, “You have their stuff?” He gently lets the arrow go, not drawing to full length and it drops right into his quiver. 

Hank shrugs. “The corpses were searched and the mostly undamaged things were returned to the support teams. Some of the more personal weapons I kept.” He pulls out a gun and a knife from the case just as Clint stores his bow away. 

“Bobbi’s and Paul’s.” He says when he turns around to face Clint, brandishing each weapon in turn.

Both are good weapons. The gun is a custom made Glock 22, perfect for Bobbi, though the custom was referring more to the design on the grips rather than to any changes in the instrument’s usual measurements. There’s an etching of a mockingbird with its wings spread and flying up on the grip, at the bottom there are three neat rows of scratches. 

Paul’s knife is a cold steel Kobun boot knife, the one that Paul always carried around with him, even if he didn’t usually use it in combat. There are markings on the knife hilt too, mostly just stuff that Paul scratched there with shrapnel after battles, but at the bottom of the hilt, Clint knows that there are three names there, scratched with a glass shard from a broken bottle.

Clint takes both the weapons with a nod of wordless thanks. Hank smiles, “They were good people.” 

“They were.” He agrees, tucking Paul’s knife into his left boot and strapping Bobbi’s gun to his belt. Then he swings the quiver around his back and grabs one of the bow cases. 

“See you around, Hawk.” Hank says as Clint leaves the tent, his words a silent wish of take care and come back. 

Clint nods, “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

Outside, the sky is a dark purple and the stars are just appearing. The whole base is moving, he can feel the silent rush to get away. Nobody wants to stay here. He’s not kidding when he said they had lost too much. Everybody has their minds on the deaths of Sitwell and Anna, a good drift team, and their Jaeger, Lesion. He doesn’t know how things got so out of hand. One minute he was trying to blind the Kaiju and next thing he knows, Bobbi starts screaming on the comm. line and when Paul goes to help her, he starts screaming too. Then Sitwell and Anna are screaming in unison and the Kaiju is roaring and then everything and everyone is dead.  
He shakes his head, willing the memories to leave him and looks around the base. The first trucks are just pulling out of the entrance and most of the personal tents were down, leaving the med team, tech support and other supply tents. He walks briskly to a truck just about to leave the base and throws his duffel into the back, idly watching the agents inside toss it to the side along with the rest of the duffels. 

He looks up at the sky again, trying to gauge the time. The night sky is slowly deepening from purple to black, and suddenly he recalls the night they were crouched behind a dumpster in an alley. Paul had his father’s knife, Bobbi her mother’s gun. He had his bow and arrow and they take a shard of broken glass they find lying around and etch their names into the seasoned wood of Clint’s bow, the leather bottom of Paul’s knife and the grip of Bobbi’s gun. It seems fitting to remember their beginnings at the end of their lives so he goes ahead and recollects their faces in the small fire they lit. He remembers Bobbi’s angry, tear streaked face and Paul’s blank gaze. He remembers wondering if he looked like that even though he had lost nothing, just had nothing left to lose. 

“Hurry up, Barton. We haven’t got all day.” An agent inside snaps and he quickly hoists himself into the truck. 

“Just can’t wait to have me by your side, hmm?” He smirks as he makes his way to the back to sit. 

The agent snorts. “Shut the fuck up, ass.” but he’s smiling a half smile so Clint fakes a laugh as the truck starts moving and the engines drown out everything else.

 _‘I will take your vengeance for you.’_ He thinks as they draw the canvas flaps, blocking out the sky. _‘I will fight for you. We won’t go down so easily. I promise.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a year since I have touched this story, and I'm sorry. I'm thoroughly stuck on the 3rd chapter to this story. Hope I get some progress soon. I will update as soon as possible.


End file.
